They Came, They Saw, and They Drank a Heckuva Lot
by Laziness Incarnate
Summary: Remus and Sirius say hello and have a slightly bizarre chat after the end of PoA. Then they get drunk, if not roaringly so. Basically a buddy fic. [One-shot]


  
They Came, They Saw, and They Drank a Heckuva Lot

  


It had not been a dark and stormy night. 

It had definitely been dark, however. And eerie things will happen at night even without the stress of storm to wither the sense of sensible beings. 

One Sybill Trelawney had made a prediction, of true vision and unsound mind, and soon all went amiss with the tenderness of moon-wrought madness. 

"It was a dark and moon-lit night," said Remus Lupin mildly. 

"Yes, it was definitely dark," said Sirius Black. "A pity we didn't notice the moon-lit part." 

The two looked like a real pair of misfits this day, both wearing clothes that were too old and frayed to be considered anything near respectable. Remus's robes, at least, were clean, but sitting on the floor of a damp cave wasn't helping matters. He thought, for a moment, that Sirius shouldn't have to wear those twelve-years old Azkaban-stained robes, not if there was any sense of fairness in the world, and Remus had brought him a new set of robes anyway so why wasn't he wearing those, but then remembered that Sirius had said he wanted to save those for when his current clothing finally gave up and died, which would probably be in about two minutes given the state of them. Then Remus wondered why the hell he was thinking about clothes so much when he finally had a chance to talk - for real - with this best living friend. 

Their meeting had been happy enough, at first, with fond memories from twelve years ago resurfacing to kindle friendship anew. But each pleasant memory was tainted by equal memories of betrayal, of the rat that got away and the moon who shone down, uncaring, no matter how many human fists shook themselves at its pitiless face. 

Remus coughed embarrassedly, remembering how he had forgotten the moon--goodness, how could he forget the moon? but Sirius raised a hand to forestall any apologies and muttered, "No, it was my fault, really-all I could think about was killing the rat. You couldn't be expected to take care of me and Harry and those kids and Snape and Wormtail and remember the moon too." 

"But forgetting my transformation wasn't my only mistake, even if it was the biggest one," protested Remus. "And I could hardly expect you to cover my mistakes when you were so, er, fixated." 

"_Our_ mistakes, Remus. We both messed up big-time. Sorry about your job, by the way." 

Remus waved a hand dismissively. "That was entirely Snape's doing, not yours. I'm the one who should be sorry. If I hadn't let Peter get away..." 

"Yes, Peter," said Sirius grimly. "Why don't we agree that we share equal stupidity for not killing the rat when we had a chance?" 

"Actually, I think we share equal stupidity in trying to kill him at all. We do need him alive to prove your innocence." 

"Yeah, I guess. Killing him would have been too poetically just, so it couldn't happen. Want a beer?" 

Remus did a slight double-take. "Where did you get that?" 

"Stole it from a Muggle house. They were storing it outside along with some food," Sirius said casually. "Muggles are actually a lot easier to steal from, you know. There's much less a chance they'll be carrying a projectile weapon than a wizard will be carrying a wand." 

Remus didn't quite know what to say. Years ago we would have chided Sirius for drinking and unnecessary stealing, or for putting himself in danger, but it seemed silly to scold a man for petty sins when he had spent twelve years in hell for being innocent. So Remus said nothing, and an awkward silence ensued. 

Sirius still hated silences, apparently. "I take it you don't want any beer." 

"No, thank you. I'd like to keep my mind clear." 

"Well, I don't. I really don't." Sirius popped open a bottle, threw back his head, and drank long and deeply. Remus got the odd impression that his old friend was disappointed, that he'd really like to share what little drink he had. He had even already opened another bottle at some point, probably when Remus hadn't been looking. So after a moment's hesitation and muttering something about being middle-aged only once, Remus grabbed the open bottle and gulped hastily, not liking the taste much. 

Sirius grinned, which looked a little ghastly on his emaciated face, but it was still nice to see such an expression. 

"To old friends?" suggested Remus, raising his bottle. 

Sirius's smile grew wider. "To old friends. To killing them." 

"...That's hardly funny, Sirius." 

"Wasn't meant to be."

* * *

Sirius was pretty sure that the odd looks Remus had been giving him for hours were attempts to affirm Sirius's sanity. But Sirius had spent twelve years with nothing better to do than affirm his own sanity, and the last thing he needed was to spend the few hours he had with his friend being reminded of the time he'd spent with nothing better to do than affirm his own sanity, when, after Remus left - an event hopefully still hours away - Sirius would spend all his waking hours with nothing better to do than affirm his own sanity. 

Meanwhile, Remus's probing looks were getting annoying, so Sirius offered his friend a beer laced with vodka. It was an old tactic, to get Remus drunk when he was thinking too much. Usually, Sirius (and before, James) had done this to loosen up the ever-stoic werewolf so he could live a little, but in later years, when Remus had grown too shrewd for his own good, they had administered the bottle to stop him from finding out things he shouldn't. 

Things like: _your friends don't trust you, they think you're a spy._

Remus was really too smart to fall for this old trick, but he almost always drank anyway. He was a real sucker for peer pressure, Sirius figured, or secretly an alcoholic. Or maybe he had run a lucrative international tequila cartel since they were in fourth year that nobody knew about. But then why was he so poor? Maybe the cartel wasn't doing so well anymore. 

Thankfully, Sirius was prevented from asking why Remus hadn't brought any tequila when Remus toasted, "To old friends?" 

"To old friends. To killing them," finished Sirius, thinking of Peter. 

"...That's hardly funny, Sirius." 

"Wasn't meant to be." Sirius wondered if Remus thought 'killing old friends' included killing Remus, which it didn't. It did include James, though. 

After the toast, the pair sat around and sipped silently for a while, Sirius trying very hard not to hanker after some good tequila. Remus looked oddly tense, despite all the alcohol he'd ingested, and the werewolf blurted out suddenly, "I still feel terrible that you have to sit here and drink this very bad beer in this cave, on the run. Our first drink together should have been in The Three Broomsticks with you as a free man, laughing with Madam Rosmerta and Harry having a butterbeer beside us." 

Sirius would have said something disarming, like "This beer is high-class stuff compared to what they gave us in Azkaban," but the remark about Harry made him say instead, "Harry likes butterbeer?" 

"Er, yes, he does. He drank some when he snuck out to Hogsmeade, I'm quite sure of it." 

"And you think my beer is bad?" 

"Worst stuff I've ever tasted." 

Sirius resisted the urge to say something flattering about the taste of vodka. "You never did really like beer. Haven't changed at all?" 

"Not a bit." 

"Still get drunk after one glass?" 

"I'm not quite that bad anymore. You, I'm guessing, have somehow retained your tolerance." 

"No, I've just been drinking a lot since I got out. 

Remus paused a moment before replying. Sirius hoped he wasn't going to lecture him. 

"How have you been getting so much alcohol? Stealing?" 

"Mostly. Though there was a family that fed me beer, and so I stayed near them for a week or two." 

A grin split Remus's worn face. "Let me guess. In Ireland?" 

"Of course. Somewhere near Dublin." 

They paused, and the silence felt a bit more comfortable this time. Sirius marveled at how easy socializing became when the alcohol was flowing steadily. He offered Remus another beer, this one not laced with vodka, and drank, and drank, and drank.

* * *

Remus was feeling better now - rather warm and fuzzy around the edges, as if someone had cast a fungus spell on him, of the pleasant variety. He also was sure he was starting to feel giddy. 

"And then," Sirius was saying with a queer sort of chuckle, "then I'll blow his head off. Right in the middle of, whatsis, Diagon Alley." 

"But you can't do that!" protested Remus, confused. 

"Why the hell not?" 

"You need a wand to blow people's heads off. I think. And I'm a professor, I should know these things." 

"Oh. Then I'll just, just bite his head off!. I can turn into a dog, you know." 

"Yeah, I know that one." 

"And I'm good at biting rat heads off. Done it lots of times, even when I wasn't a dog, ayup." 

Remus thought hard about that for a second. "But what if he's not a rat? He can be a person too." 

"I can still bite his head off. Just need practice, 's'all. 

Remus did not think about that. There was something else that was eating up his currently limited processing abilities, something Sirius had said earlier... 

"Hey! You can't do that in Diagon Alley!" 

"What, public masturbation?" 

"No, no, I mean, you can't do that either, it's against the law and gross--you don't do that anymore, I hope? Um, what was I saying again? Oh yeah...you can't kill people in the middle of Diagon Alley. It's very against the law." 

"'S'okay, I've got this double jeopardy thingy." 

"Say what? Isn't that a Muggle gameshow? With that Alex Trebekker guy. He's Canadian." 

"Not a Muggle gameshow, dimwit! A Muggle movie!" 

"Huh. When's the last time you saw a Muggle movie?" 

"Last week. Guess what it was called?" 

"Uh..." 

"'Double Jeopardy!'" 

"With Alex Trebekker?" 

"Ashley Judd." 

"Who?" 

"I dunno. She looked kinda like this." Sirius traced a curvy, definitely feminine shape in the air and nearly fell over. 

"Oh, you mean she was a looker." 

"Yeah. She was trying to kill her boyfriend. Husband. Whatever." 

"Oh, you mean she was a hooker." 

"No, I think she was probably an architect or something. I can't remember, I was kind of, you know, wasted." 

"Like now?" Remus giggled. 

"Not as much as now. I remember some stuff...like Ashley Judd got thrown in jail for killing her husband when she was innocent, and she escaped so she could find her little boy. And someone told her she wouldn't get arrested if she killed her husband again 'cause he was supposed to be dead. Like Peter's supposed to be dead." 

Remus decided to shut up. 

"So that's why Peter's got to be dead and why I have to do it, because anyone else would get in trouble." 

Remus looked over at his friend, who was peering very carefully into his empty beer bottle, and said, "I won't get into trouble for killing him if he's a rat." 

"You will too." 

"I don't mind." 

Somewhere beneath the grimy overhang of hair, Sirius grinned. 

"You can be my Tommy Wee Jones." 

"...I don't think I want to be that. Even if you're my best friend, that sounds kind of dirty." 

"It means 'sidekick' in Muggle." 

"Muggles are weird. And I don't want to be your sidekick. Sidekicks get kicked around and ultimately blasted by the bad guy." 

"Okay, you can be my partner then. Deal?" 

"Deal." 

Remus stuck his hand out to shake on it, and Sirius raised his beer bottle for a toast. Then they each saw what the other was doing and Remus dropped his hand and held up his bottle, and Sirius dropped his bottle with a crash and put out his hand. 

Then Sirius pulled his friend into a bear hug, and even if he was crying a little and wiping his nose on Remus' clean cloak, even if Remus could see the moon's light filtering darkly into the cave entrance, it hardly mattered.

* * *

Author's notes: Before anyone asks, I'm not a big fan of the movie "Double Jeopardy." It was a pretty decent movie, but Ashley Judd gives me the willies. Did you see her _spine_? But you must admit, the movie resembles Sirius' plight rather closely. Right down to the quest to save a child from evil parenting and that whole business with Tommy Wee Jones. 

A big thank you to everyone who pointed out that Dublin is actually in Ireland, not Scotland. Hello, I feel foolish! I guess I didn't quite figure out what was going on when I was reading "Dubliners" this year. I must have wrote Scotland because Hogwarts is supposed to be somewhere in that country. Yeah, that's it. Nothing at all to do with geographic ignorance. 


End file.
